Comfort Hugs
by SkinnyLittleSlut
Summary: Neal is greeted with a painful past memory; can Peter help him with it? Short story fragment, S1 spoilers, nonsexual Peter/Neal slash. CONSIDERING DELETION.


**Wrote this just for fun. I know it's not very well worded, that's not exactly my strong suit, and it won't be the most politically correct thing in the universe, but I love the chemistry between these two, and exploring their possible relationship in a non-sexual way is really fun to do, and I thought I'd share it with y'all :3**

**Disclaimer: don't own none of these here characters son **

Neal walked into the meeting, chewing his lip.

"Sorry I'm late," he murmured, slumping right down in his chair. Peter, who was stood at the top of the table, frowned.

"..could have been a blowtorch.."

"No..wouldn't have left…residue.."

"..access to high-tech gear.."

"Neal. What's wrong?"

Peter interrupted his team in mid-flow. They all shut up straight away, and all eyes turned to Neal. To them, he looked fine; a bored con-man being forced to endure yet another case. But Peter knew him a little more. He could tell there was a problem, from the gentle nibble Neal kept giving his lip, the unhappy twitch of his cheek, and most of all, his eyes, eyes that today were void of their usual sparkle. Neal didn't answer for a few minutes, staring blankly into space. Then Peter touched his shoulder lightly, and he started, before relaxing into the familiar hand.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Everything's great" he stated, with a little too much enthusiasm.

_Nibble nibble._

Diana shrugged, and her and Jones continued with their theories. Peter chimed in occasionally, but he kept his eyes fixed on Neal.

_Nibble nibble._

"Okay, so Diana, you're going undercover to find this guy's main source of gear; Jones, you're back to the van"

The team filed out.

"Neal"

Neal hung back at Peter's command, keeping an impassive face until they had all gone.

"Neal?" he asked, entwining his fingers through his partner's.

"It's fine, really Peter, just a little worry" he assured Peter.

"Okay"

The left together, breaking their hands.

_Nibble nibble._

_A few days later_

Neal had returned to his usual playful self. Peter was still curious as to what had been bothering him a few days ago, but since it was no longer affecting Neal, Peter figured it wasn't important. They were close to a bust now, and had received information that some of the stolen goods were being stored on a boat at the docks. The two of them had come to investigate.

They had almost reached the port when Neal stopped short, his handsome face draining of all colour.

"Neal..?" Peter asked, concerned. But Neal just stood there, staring.

Up on the docks, a stout man was cackling. With every peal of laughter, a little more colour drained from Neal's face.

"Look, it's lonely little Caffrey!" he yelled, howling with amusement. "Left at the altar, left at the airport, left by everyone who loves you," he sang.

The rims of Neal's eyes reddened as they became wet with tears. Peter was staring at him in shock as he just collapsed on the sidewalk, hugging his knees and sniffing. The man had leapt onto a yatch, and he was slowly floating off, giggling. Neal was trying to regain his composure, but when he glanced up, and his eyes met Peter's, he just broke down sobbing.

"Neal!" Peter said, shocked, and sat down next to Neal, pulling the younger man into a bone-crushing hug. The con man was crying into Peter's shoulder, shaking violently. Peter wrapped his arms round Neal's head, clenching his fists in his partner's tousled hair.

"Alright buddy.. deep breaths.. c'mon now.." he said, holding Neal tightly.

"Kate's… brother…" he hiccuped, his mouth muffled against Peter's jacket. Peter pulled back, cupping Neal's beautiful face in his hands.

"He.. knows how to.. get to me.. with Kate's death.. mad with grief.. my fault.." Neal sniffed, almost incoherently.

"Neal. Neal. Look at me." Peter gently commanded. With reluctance, the young man raised his big blue eyes to meet Peter's chocolate brown ones.

"Kate's death was not your fault"

Neal's bottom lip began to tremble. Peter could see the inner struggle in Neal's face, torn between wanting to believe Peter and a year of self-loathing. Peter took his hand, stood up and pulled Neal with him, and they walked slowly back to the car, Peter's arm around Neal's defeated shoulders. They reached the car, and Peter turned his phone off, telling Neal to do the same. As they drove, Neal was staring blankly out of the window.

Peter pulled up outside the first motel he spotted. They had been driving a while, and Neal seemed to have calmed down. Peter pulled him out of the car, paid the miserable clerk for a room, and took Neal upstairs. He locked the door. Neal had sat down on the bed, gazing into space. Peter lay down behind him, pulling Neal down and into a hug. Neal was unresponsive at first, but Peter's consistent pressure seemed to relax him, and he buried his face in Peter's chest, breathing in the musky cologne and coffee smell. Peter rested his chin on Neal's head, rubbing his cheek in the longish strands of his partner's dark hair.

"I love you Neal Caffrey" Peter stated.

"I love you too, Agent Burke" Neal whispered against Peter's chest.


End file.
